


Unwrapped

by james



Series: Winterfair [2]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, mostly fluff and humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:35:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21752335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james
Summary: The morning after Ivan's rescue begins in expected ways.  Then in unexpected ways.
Relationships: Gregor Vorbarra/Ivan Vorpatril
Series: Winterfair [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567768
Comments: 10
Kudos: 74





	Unwrapped

Ivan woke up twice the next morning. Once, to drag himself out of a warm bed to use the refresher, then he went right back to bed and curled up with a warm, welcoming body. Falling back asleep actually took some time, what with one thing and another, but when he did get to go back to sleep it was with his legs intertwined with Gregor's and the unmistakeable feel of drying sweat and other delightful things that would be gross and sticky when they got out of bed for real.

The next time he woke it was to the soft sound of a comm beeping. He opened one eye – none of _his_ comms had ever had the courtesy of beeping _quietly._ If this was an Imperial Perk he was all for it, never leaving Gregor's bed at all if this was how it was. He saw Gregor glance towards him, the faint lines of worry showing. Ivan understood – it was no doubt due to great Imperial Staffing Efforts that they'd had a slow, lazy morning thus far, but no doubt Gregor's few hours off were over, and it was time for him to go to work.

It didn't mean _Ivan_ had to get out of bed. He slid his arms under his pillow and made a great show of staying right where he was, thank you. There was a soft snort of laughter from Gregor, then the sound of him tapping open the comm.

“I'm sorry to disturb you, Sire,” came the voice of Gregor's chancellor, Vorgavrilov. The man certainly sounded apologetic, which made sense as Ivan heard his next words. As soon as “But The Lady Alys says”, came over the comm, Ivan's head flew up from his pillow. He stared at darkened screen (thank you, Gregor) as Vorgavrilov continued, “She expects you to join her for breakfast,” there was a slight pause, “While it is still early enough to be considered breakfast.”

That part was a direct quote, Ivan knew. He'd heard it often enough once he'd got old enough to get completely wasted the night before. Vorgavrilov even almost had her tone down.

There was another pause while a voice spoke just out of range, that sounded distinctly like someone Ivan absolutely did not want to hear the morning after he'd, well. After. Then Vorgavrilov came back on the comm and said, “She also indicates that she does expect you to shower and be appropriately attired. I should note the time, Sire, as she has noted there is only just enough time for _showering._ ”

Ivan buried his head completely under the pillow. He knew that phrase as well, thank you very much. If he stayed where he was, maybe Gregor would do his Imperial Duty and face her alone. Was that an Imperial Duty? Ivan was prepared to beg, plead, and maybe even cry liege.

Except if he pushed his mother, she might actually walk right into Gregor's bedroom and allow as to how Ivan has clearly indicated he wished his audience with her to be conducted here and not the sitting room. 

She hadn't done that since he'd been 14, and he'd very quickly determined the benefit of jumping out of bed, showering in under five minutes, and getting appropriately dressed. Then again, he'd never been asked to do so when the man he'd been in love with for most of his life was lying beside him, looking equally unenthused about getting up.

“We could run away,” Ivan whispered. “Your Personal Guards aren't afraid of my mother, are they?” 

“I”m not certain I want to find out,” Gregor said, and while he sounded like he was going to be the responsible one, he also slid back down under the covers and pressed himself against Ivan. “By my calculations, if we shower together and don't get distracted, we still have four minutes.”

Grinning, Ivan closed his eyes, and stayed right where he was.

~ ~ ~

His mother gave them a brief look, and a very delicate _sniff_ when they emerged from Gregor's bedroom and into the sitting room. It served as an extension of Gregor's private chambers, where he would have breakfast alone or with an overnight guest, and if he hosted anyone else it was usually family. 

Ivan tried not to think about previous overnight guests – he hardly had a leg to stand on when it came to protestations of waiting. But in his defense, he'd been convinced his cause was hopeless and had been trying to find someone else to try and fall in love with. He had heard a few quiet rumors, but nothing concrete and nothing from Miles, who was loyal enough to only spread true rumors. Thank goodness his cousin was off-planet at the moment; Ivan could look forward to waiting for him to catch up on the news and seeing the look on his face.

His mother, however, had clearly heard as soon as news had happened. Why she hadn't shown up during his rescue last night he didn't want to know, because if he thought about it too hard he'd figure out a perfectly plausible way for his mother and Countess Vordarian to have been masterminds of a plot designed to get he and Gregor together.

To distract himself, he nodded a greeting to her and sat down, reaching for a cup of coffee. There was a much more distinct, though still barely audible sniff of disapproval at Ivan's manners, but Ivan wasn't going to hold himself accountable for behaving until he'd had half a cup of coffee at least. 

“Good Morning, Aunt Alys,” Gregor said as he sat down beside Ivan, hitching his chair slightly towards Ivan and away from the perfectly-equally-distanced setting. Now Ivan's mother was just a tiny bit on her own side of the table, with Gregor and Ivan together on their own side.

Like Lady Alys hadn't taught both of them all of their social manners, Ivan thought, but his mother actually smiled at Gregor and poured herself a cup of tea from the teapot. 

Just how long she'd been here, he couldn't tell. The table was set for breakfast, completely clear of anything his mother might had already had. He couldn't even tell how full the teapot was from the way she poured.

So she was trying to make it look like she hadn't been here for hours, waiting for them. Ivan appreciated it, at least so far as she'd _waited_. He glanced at his wrist-piece and saw they'd missed it being lunch instead by almost twenty minutes. Victory.

His mother didn't say anything as Anna, Gregor's private chef for the morning shift brought in a wheeled cart. Ivan didn't bother trying to make polite conversation as he watched her uncover dishes heaping with potato casseroles, fried eggs, and bowls of groats. There was a plate stacked with pancakes set in the middle of the table, along with various small pots which Ivan hoped were filled with jam and fruit and not that horrible new fad of putting fermented cabbage on one's pancakes.

It was probably too late to tell Gregor he had limits, and he wasn't sleeping with someone who ate fermented cabbage.

They sat in silence as Anna served them both, and, after a very silent but detailed conversation involving a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his mother's head, Anna put a plate of cut fruit and yogurt in front of Lady Alys. Which meant she'd eaten already, and probably had been working while she waited, so that this was a light and early lunch to fuel her interrogation.

She couldn't make him talk if his mouth was full. Ivan started eating, marveling at just how much food there was and relieved to discover only jam, fruit, and bacon jelly in the jars for the pancakes. Beside him, Gregor took his cue and did the same. For several minutes it was nice, even, sharing a quiet breakfast with his mother and his... Gregor.

He should have known better, but he _was_ sort of starving and he'd had a very fraught day yesterday, what with being kidnapped and held prisoner late into the night, then not really very much sleep even if they had stayed in bed until nearly noon.

“Well,” his mother said, after carefully eating some of her fruit, eyeing each of them in turn as if to see if either of them were going to crack. 

Ivan took a huge bite of cheesy potato.

His mother gave him a Look that said she knew exactly what he was doing since he'd been doing it since he was six, and said, “We'll want to decide now if you're having a Spring wedding, or Fall.”

Ivan choked.

She ignored him, though there was definitely a twinkle in her eye. “The city Guilds will need time, of course, so this Spring is far too soon. It would be an improperly quick engagement, anyhow. But Spring is traditionally the best time for an Imperial Wedding, the weather is perfect for the outdoors ceremony. Fall would be the best time if we consider the correct length of engagement, but the schedule for events this Fall will already be quite full. It could be done, of course, but it would be _rude._ ” She made a gesture with her hand, which Ivan understood perfectly.

'Rude' meant they'd piss off a lot of Vor Ladies who might then cajole their husbands into voting certain ways. That was the political side; on a personal and social level, all the dance or theater companies would already be putting together their fall and early winter performances, not to mention the rugby and boxing championships after the summer season. Everyone would be delighted to celebrate the Emperor's wedding, or at least they'd be delighted to be entertained by the scandal of Gregor marrying _Ivan Vorpatril_. But underneath it there would be resentment and inconvenience and burning a lot of social and political bridges that they simply didn't need to.

Ivan ignored how the words “Emperor's wedding” were floating around in his head along with his own name, and poured himself another cup of coffee. This was going to turn out to be a joke of his mother's, revenge for any number of antics he'd forced her to endure as he'd grown up. Or just a test to see how they'd react – if Gregor protested that this was a one time thing, due to the emotions of the night before, well, then Ivan and his mother would have all the answers they'd want.

That thought was more depressing than the horror of having an Imperial Wedding. 

“Next Spring--” His mother paused and gave Ivan another Look which he also knew perfectly well, and if he was the type to blush he would be. He looked back down at his breakfast and focused on whether or not he wanted a fourth pancake.

Yes, obviously he did. A full mouth answers no questions.

“What about next Spring?” Gregor asked, and Ivan didn't have time to warn him, but if he was letting himself get dragged into this, he would have to learn how Alys Vorpatril conducted matters.

In a very casual, not at all obviously scolding tone, she said, “It's really quite far away, and I doubt I can rely upon you two to keep out of trouble for a year and a half.”

“Can we at least have a second date?” Ivan asked, feeling some obligation to come to Gregor's rescue. He did owe the man, after all. “Or, wait.” He looked at Gregor. “Have we had an actual first date? I'm assuming last night doesn't count as a _date._ ”

“Honestly, Ivan,” his mother said, sounding just as exasperated as she ever did. 

He turned to her, not knowing what her game was and full enough of amazingly good food to not care to play any longer. “I think it's fair to have a few dates, before we talk about if he wants to marry me.” He wiped his fingers with a napkin, and eyed the last of the potato cheese dish. 

Gregor reached out with his spoon and snagged it, plopping it down on his own plate. Ivan dropped his jaw in an expression of outrage, to cover the way he wanted to laugh.

As he cut a bite, Gregor leaned forward, then side-eyed Ivan. “Ivan, do you want to marry me?”

“Is this a precursor, or the actual question?” Ivan felt his heart pounding, because it was very, minisculely possible, that his mother wasn't here playing games.

“Depends,” Gregor said around his bite of potato, and the fact Ivan's mother was just sitting there silently, not even trying to correct him – Ivan could remember when Gregor was nine and being drilled at table manners so he knew Gregor knew how horrified Alys had to be right now. He wanted to look over and see what expression was on her face, except. Except Gregor was sitting there, asking him. Asking. 

“Well, yeah.” Ivan shrugged, looking down at his plate, dregs of jam and bits of bacon sticking to it. His mother would slap his hand if he tried to clean them up with his finger. 

He wanted to say...something. Anything. It was a joke, he knew it had to be. A joke that Gregor and his mother and all Gregor's personal staff and guards were in on, because weeks and months of every single person Ivan encountered in the Palace going out of their way to make Ivan welcome. Comfortable.

Safe, if you considered that Vorbohn and Vorreznikov had been assigned to Ivan's person when he was on the grounds. 

After last night he had a feeling they were going to be attached to his person _at all times._ Which, would Ivan keep his old job once he got married to the Emperor? Probably not. 

Would he get to order Miles around, was the real question. Would Miles feel obligated to obey him if he tried?

He looked up at Gregor, who was watching him with a closed expression. Not the happy or hopeful one Ivan might have expected and he realised Gregor honestly didn't know what Ivan's answer really was.

He reached over and took Gregor's hand. “I think we can stay out of trouble until next Spring.” He gave Gregor's hand a tug, nudging him closer. Ivan leaned in for a kiss, grinning as he tasted a bit of cheese. Gregor's face had lit up, and he pulled Ivan back as he tried to move away. 

There was no noise from his mother, which made it almost easy to ignore her, and focus on kissing the man he was going to marry.

Marry.

Holy hell.

He wondered if they could get away with going back to bed.


End file.
